the theophany: water and the spirit

i confess i am addicted to post-apocalyptic-wasteland movies, perhaps because they seem so contemporary. the insane race of mad max continues on highway 101 all the way from port angeles, washington, to east los angeles, california. i find that a wonderful irony. roger corman is one of my favourite directer of b movies, and i remember one of his b or c p-a-w works in which everyone had been changed into zombies by drinking too many skinny decaf vanilla lates except one old man, his daugher, and her boyfriend. girl and boy have the task of repopulating the world, but first the zombies must be exorcised. how? the girl discovers that they are afraid of water. standing in the holy water of a stream in their surviving suburb, they are safe.

it is a common theme of folklore that evil spirits cannot cross running water. but it is also a common theme of folklore that something has happened, that the waters have somehow been bewitched (think the lion, the witch and the wardrobe, or genesis, with its garden, now lost, once watered by a river which became four.) what happens when the waters that were seen to be good in creation are fouled, when they no longer dispel evil although the bottle containing them is marked holy water (think the exorcist--but not for too long.)?

older than the celebration of christmas, the feast of the nativity, is the feast of the epiphany, or theophany. indeed the beginning our salvation is, in the liturgy of the church, marked by the annunciation to mary, the conception of the messiah, as the ancient hymn for that day notes:

Today is the beginning of our salvation,
And the revelation of the eternal mystery!
The Son of God becomes the Son of the Virgin
As Gabriel announces the coming of Grace.
Together with him let us cry to the Theotokos:
"Rejoice, O Full of Grace, the Lord is with you!"

again, the dangers and possibilities of the unborn child is common in folklore, with celtic tales especially aboundin with stories of pregnant women being sent to their death but who are rescued by some miracle, usually involving fish or animals.

but the mighty act of the holy one which began in the virgin's womb is hidden. even after the birth, only a few foreigners, some shepherds--not in ancient palestine a very respected folk--and two old people who were at death's door knew what had happened.

and then: behold! god the son enters into the waters, the voice of god the father is heard from heaven, and god the holy spirit descends like a dove. the restoration of the original goodness of creation has begun, the synergistic work, if i may be allowed a bit of theological jargon, of god and man in the person of the god-man jesus christ.

the waters of death become the waters of life. quickly this understanding of our own baptism becomes part of the tradition of the church (think paul's letter to the romans, chapter 6). and in a sort of parallel image, the church becomes a ship which carries us across the waters, no longer story but calmed at the command of the god-man.

there are so many parallels to this story in folklore, again especially celtic folklore, that i cannot begin to consider them in a blogpost. i will leave you with just one, and it is one of my favourites, connected as it is with the origins of christianity in britain. it is the holy isle of avilon, hidden in the mists, surrounded by the lake presided over by the lady, and visible only to those who have died to the ways of the common world, and initiated into the kingdom of heaven, the land of the apple tree.